


Weight of the World

by NiceSpice



Category: FFXIV, Final Fantasy, ffxiv shadowbringers - Fandom, scions of the seventh dawn - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-25 01:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21347833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiceSpice/pseuds/NiceSpice
Summary: Just something I took forever to write. My main pairing for FFXIV Miru and Urianger. Writing Urianger is insanely difficult but I had fun doing so.EDIT: I had found some typos/unfinished thoughts so I had fixed them. Sorry if i missed any more x.x
Kudos: 7





	Weight of the World

She always has such a gentle look in her eyes. Her dark blue and purple irises calm, like the coming twilight that pervades the night. How warm they are when she walks into a room. When she spots her friends from afar and she lights up. And he had hoped, one day, she would look at him that way with all that love swirling in her eyes. But knows she never would. Not after everything he did. Not after Moenbryda, the Warriors of Darkness on the Source, nor now, after being privy to the Exarch's plan of self-sacrifice and said nothing. But he isn't unhappy with the outcome. No, this time Miru got precisely what she desires, to save everyone just this once. No thanks to himself.

It was uncertain when he discovered how drawn he was to her. When he realized that when he let his thoughts wander they always drifted back to her. He had wondered if it was simply due to her being the Warrior of Light and a comrade, but over time he found there is more to it. He started to notice the little things she does when she doesn’t think anyone is watching. How her head tilts to the side when she listens intently to whomever has her attention. How she attempts, rather poorly, to cover her laughter or grin as her eyes twinkle in amusement. Or her expression when she loses herself between the pages of a tome, lost to everyone but the world presented to her imagination through ink and pen. Does she know, he remembers wondering once, that her left ear flicks when she gets excited? Or how she looks in her moment of triumph; eyes full of relief, of hope and happiness. He wonders if she knew how open of a book she was to everyone around her. How she averts her gaze so no one knows she was lying. Hiding her doubts, her worries. Of course she protests and claims that everyone had better things to worry about. 

And perhaps he did, once. But no longer. A world without her was not a world he wanted to be a part of and he would do anything and everything in his power to see her safe. Even if it meant hiding certain truths from her. He convinced himself it was to protect her. Though he knows it would weigh heavy on his heart unto his dying day. But still he hid from her truths and feelings both. And as he gazed at her now, surrounded by the people of the Crystarium amidst their celebrations and merriment he felt pangs of guilt in his chest still. That smile on her lips was not meant for him, he knew, it was for all those who fought with her, supported her, it was their victory. Not his. And yet...

She forgave him. Even if it was just because he begged to attend her, to accompany her, to the deepest, darkest depths of the Tempest. Part of him wondered if it was to assuage the guilt he felt or if it was out of his concern for her, though he knows--full well--precisely why he did. He was to blame for her condition, light-infected as she was, and it was no small feat, he admits to himself, to ask her forgiveness. The thought of her despising him wasn’t one he entertained for long, truly he could not bear the thought, though he would not blame her for it. He earned such spite from her, he had expected no different. But to hear those words from her lips brought such relief. It was a surprise even to him that his voice remained steadfast. Ill could he describe the feeling in detail, for relief does it no justice. He would not, however, infringe on the rest she so rightfully earned-no, deserved. Though he wishes to be near her, he retreats back into the quieter areas of the Quadviridrum. The celebrations no more than a dull roar this side of the door.

He sits at the base of one tree, its lavender leaves looking near amaranthine in the failing light. Here, in this place, he began to sort his thoughts over the past few weeks, not to mention the years he had spent here in the First. In Il Mheg. It was easier then, when he was alone, to keep the Exarch’s secrets close. Before she arrived. He never once held doubt of the Exarch’s words nor did he dismiss the plight of the First outright. However, it is a lie to say she wasn’t his foremost concern. A world without her, broken and burning, will no longer come to be. A slow sigh passed his lips as he closed his eyes. The danger has passed, yes, but their work? There was much left undone, he knows. And he knows she would be the first to leap into the fray and lend a helping hand, even if she was not asked. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. She was always quick to offer aid, even if there was naught to gain but a smile.

“Urianger?”

He opens his eyes at the sound of his name falling from her lips. How did she..? He turns his head to gaze up at her as she smiles, eyes bright. She stands to his right, bent over with her hands on her knees as her hair falls loose over her shoulders. For once she is the taller of the two and it’s his turn to peer up at her. He tilts his head quizzically towards her, allowing his perplexed expression to be seen at her sudden appearance. Not that he is complaining to have her at his side. Miru. 

“I saw you wander off, are you well?” She asks, her eyes full and dark with concern. Ah, he smiled faintly with a slight shake of his head.

“Nay, Miru, I merely sought some quieter place to...clear mine thoughts.”

Her brows furrow slightly and he notes how her lips purse as she averts her gaze. She was worried, he knew. He turns away, his gaze fixates on the far edge of the horizon. What should he say? Comfort her? Apologize again? For all his words that he could say, he cannot find even one to use. The sound of grass rustling reaches his ears as Miru sat down next to him, her tail curls tightly against her and over her lap. He tenses as she leans against him, arm to arm, her head resting on his shoulder. Faintly he remembers a time when they would sit together like this, Miru begging him to read to her. The memory tickles his senses, it feels so long ago. He humoured her of course, that time and many a time afterwards. But now he just focuses on her head on his shoulder, raven locks cascading over his skin. She is warm, soft, but he doesn’t bring his eyes to look upon her. He can’t.

_ Comforting. _

His eyes widen slightly as the thought fills the forefront of his mind. Yes...comforting is the word that best describes how she feels to him. Miru shifts, knees now coming up for her arms to hug tight against her smaller frame. He never realized how small she was, and not just her stature. She would often protest at her smaller height when pointed out, usually with a jest, and would sulk. With a presence that fills each room she stands in, so warm and safe, he never once thought about how her slim shoulders bear the burden of the mantle she wears. Nor, he thought wryly, would she allow those close to her to see her suffering in any capacity. He knew full well how her asking him to even reach for a book for her was even a struggle. He could only imagine how she felt when she saw the sky shrouded in primordial light once more after her fight with Vauthry.

"Are you still…" her quiet murmur reached his ears, uncertain and timid. He smiled with a shake of his head. Flattered as he was, surely she would do better than fret over his welfare. He brought this down upon his own head after all. She was the one who deserved the concern, she was the one who was almost killed from all that light.

"Thou hast more pressing concerns than me, I am sure." He spoke gently, but honestly. A soft sound of protest passed her lips as she straightened. He caught her eye and she stared at him so intensely. He failed to notice he started to hold his breath.

"You are my most pressing concern, Urianger."

His world stops. Slowly he opens his mouth to speak but the words are lost well before he can utter them. Instead he simply looks away. There is naught he can say that he had not expressed before. Even if he gives her his apologies repeatedly, he knows he will still feel the same. She appears to sense this, and reaches out to take his hand in both of hers. He flinches slightly at the contact. But he does not pull away. Her hands are so small in comparison to his. Small and...is she shaking? 

Miru runs her thumb over the back of his hand carefully. Her face downcast and he cannot quite make out her expression, her hair provides no favors either as it shrouds her eyes from view. Absently he realizes dusk had passed to night, and they seem to be in no rush to move. He is her most pressing concern? Surely not. With all the responsibility and expectation she lives with surely there was something else that requires her more so than he. But, he thinks almost self-deprecatingly, the thought that he means that much to her brings a strange sense of calm, of peace. It feels almost selfish.

"...I am flattered, Miru, but by mine hand thou hast had no shortage of troubles. I would not blame thee if I have earned thine spite." He falters on his thoughts when her hands tighten around his. A small sign of protest, perhaps? If the flicks of her tail and lowered ears did not give it away first. Still she does not speak.

"Thou gave thy forgiveness at my plea and surely I have taken enough of thy time. I would beseech thee to rest.."

"You are not taking up any time I'm unwilling to give, Urianger." Miru speaks finally and the trembles stop. She lifts her chin and catches his gaze.

"Of course I forgave you. I know your heart’s in the right place." She spoke so earnestly he could not help but believe her words. But why? The wheels of his mind turn as he gazed at her, seeking a sign, anything really, to give light to what she was trying to say. Though, deep down, he knows.

Miru averts her gaze, her feline ears low against her hair. He knows that look. It was the same when Moenbryda...he frowns. It was the same look she wore when Moenbryda sacrificed herself. He remembers her shutting herself away for days, refusing to even look at him, let alone speak.

She pauses when his palm cups her cheek and gently urges her to meet his gaze. There is naught to fear and he hopes she can read it in his eyes. Miru's lips quiver and he knows she is doing her best to keep her doubts silent. Always silent. Some part of him, though he understands, hates it. How long must she withhold and bury her troubles? Until she breaks under the weight? Until they surge forth and swallow her whole in darkness? To his surprise, however, Miru nuzzles her cheek into his palm, her gaze lowering away from his. 

"...Troubled looks do not sit well upon thy face. What is making thou fret?" He speaks quietly. He knows Miru and knows that she very well may shy from him in her current state. Always so skittish with her emotions, he thinks as she shifts and picks at her skirts. If she leaves he won't blame her, he knows how much she's been through and he refuses to ask any more. He doesn't give voice to his thoughts, however, but allows himself to settle next to her. As selfish as it is, he desires her to stay. Miru hesitantly nods, her tail flicks. He does not press her but turns his hand to brush his knuckles over her cheek. Miru calms at his touch. Her brow relaxes and her nose uncrinkles as she lets out a long breath. Then she smiles at him.

It's moments like these, he realizes faintly as he watches her expression ease and shift, that he's come to cherish. These small moments when time stands still and he watches her burdens lift from her shoulders. Miru nudges him with her shoulder, her gaze lowering.

"I...I need you to trust me, Urianger." She finally murmurs. Her hands rest in her lap only for a moment before she begins to wring them, picking at the cuff of her sleeves. He gazes at her as she does. Trust? He reflects over the past few days. When she told him before Mt. Gulg that she trusts him fully. Oh, how that sentence alone made his chest ache. To see her trust, so full and optimistic, in her eyes - it was all he could do to be silent, keeping himself from revealing everything then and there. Miru fidgets, lifting her eyes to meet his.

"...don't keep me in the dark anymore, please. I don't care what it is. I want to know." Her voice shakes and he sees the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. His chest begins to ache again. He remembers the look in her eyes when she looked at him through the haze of light and pain. The desperation lurking in those dark irises and his name half murmured on her lips. His chest tightens. Never does he want to see that look on her face again. He drops his gaze from hers. If she trusts him...it means the world to him if he were to speak plainly.

“Thou wouldst give me thine trust yet still?”

“Always.”

Miru pushes herself onto her knees, her fingers enfolding the skirts of her dress between them. He stares. Her brows, though slightly furrowing, are at ease. Her eyes meeting his in a gentle defiance. Must she always say such things? He muses softly to himself, shifting his weight as he did. She always knew what to say to ease and soothe his heart, it seems. The tiniest of smiles pull the corner of his mouth as he merely shrugs his shoulders in defeat. He concedes. She wins this time. Again. He dips his head in a slow nod, tilting it towards her. A small sigh of relief passes her lips, he can only guess the expression she wears.

When he meets her gaze again he’s met with unshed tears and a tight smile. That is not the expression he was expecting. Did he misspeak? Blinking, he tilts his head in confusion. Perhaps he should ask. Before he could even open his mouth to speak, however, she surges forward, reaching out to cup his face in her trembling hands and brings them close so their foreheads rest lightly against the other. Ah. He smiles faintly. Miru always did have this habit of pulling someone close for her to nuzzle them. She claims to be poor at expressing herself verbally and often depends on physical interaction to speak for her. Not that he minds.

Miru remains still for a while, her thumbs slowly brushing over his cheeks. The whisper of  _ always  _ tingling across his skin. Before he knows he would've given her a hundred reasons why she shouldn't trust him. Not after this second...no, third betrayal. He furrows his brows as his eyelids fall shut. He wasn't there for her when Moenbryda died. Too wrapped up in his own grief he hadn't noticed how she needed him then. He knew she was blaming herself for what happened and he did naught to soothe her. Instead he worked in secret, walking the way of shadow and betraying her trust. Again. 

But this time is different. There was naught to gain from dwelling on his mistakes now, not after how adamant she is with her forgiveness, protesting his doubts at every turn. His brow eases as Miru gently rubs her cheek to his forehead. At this close the delicate scent of flowers fills his nose. Since when did she start wearing perfume..? She draws back and he opens his eyes to meet her gaze. They were calm like the dusk before nightfall, the glittering lamplight twinkle like stars reflecting in her irises. 

"Urianger, I…" she falters, dropping her gaze as a soft pink blush settles across her moon-pale skin. He waits, content to feel her hands cradling his face as she gathers herself. Though he did have a feeling about what she was trying to say. The way she stutters and mumbles left naught to the imagination, and he likes to think he knows her well enough by now to read her body language. It is no secret she offers him the most of her affections, and for a long while he thought naught of it. It was during their fight with the Warriors of Darkness he realized the extent of her feelings. When he was called a snake and thusly apologized for his discretions against the Scions she was the first to smile and say there was naught to forgive. Afterward she spent many afternoons with him and he wonders now if it was because she was afraid he would disappear. Miru fidgets, ears low against her hair. Her lips part as she attempts to speak only to find herself voiceless.

He stares at her in the moonlight, their sitting spot just far enough for the lamplights to barely reach them. Beautiful. The word sits on his tongue and he wants to tell her, very much. But he cannot bring himself to speak. Instead his left hand cradles her cheek. Finally he understands this warmth in his chest. Neither one of them are good with their words when it comes to matters of the heart. She meets his eyes and he smiles, leaning down slowly to kiss her.

Her lips are soft against his, much like how they look, and he's almost hesitant to do aught else, waiting for her to react. But when she lets out a soft sound, a faint moan against his lips, and her hands timidly slip upwards into his hair, he loses any apprehension he may have had. Miru returns the kiss almost fervently, pressing her smaller frame to his chest like they aren't close enough. The kiss deepens and he feels her fangs brush at his lower lip, worrying the skin. He lets out a low sigh. Miru gasps drawing away for a moment, her hand moving to touch his lips where her fangs met his skin and brushes the spot with her fingertips. Gently he takes her hand from his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. 

A healthy blush was already dusting her cheeks and it only darkens at his affections. He worries he might have jumped to conclusions, though he is sure her reaction speaks for itself. A small, embarrassed laugh passes her lips as she nudges her nose to his. He finds himself smiling, allowing himself to enjoy their closeness more than he would have in the past. Miru seems to have found her voice at last, and though it’s no more than a whisper, he hears every word.

"Urianger, I love you.”

Twelve be good, he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of hearing her say his name. She repeats the words a little louder, her voice steadier than it was the first time.  _ I love you.  _ His chest fills with warmth near to bursting. Hearing her speak the words still sounds surreal but her hands cradling his face grounds him and reminds him that this was all very much real. 

“Thou hast all my heart, always.”

Her face lights up when he speaks, choosing his words as clear and concise as possible. Never does he want her to doubt his affections when it comes to her. She nuzzles him again, some stray strands of her hair tickling his face. Slowly he feels himself relax, a low chuckle escaping him. Though this confession may be years late, he is glad that he finally told her. They share one more kiss before she settles into his side and he swears he can hear her purring. Smiling he threads his fingers through her raven hair as she rests her cheek on his shoulder. Whether she is the Warrior of Light or Warrior of Darkness he would stay by her side through it all, fates willing. She will not carry the weight of these worlds on her own.

**Author's Note:**

> The outfit Miru's wearing is the new Nier raid's aiming set. I may be super infatuated with the new raid hence the name XD


End file.
